


Exit Interview

by marywhale



Series: The Avenger Zone [2]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Marvel Cinematic Universe Fusion, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Friendship, Gen, Secret Identity, barry doesn't mean to make enemies, kravitz is a good spy boy, somehow he still manages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 21:06:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16048559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marywhale/pseuds/marywhale
Summary: The Hallwinter assignment is a surprise. Kravitz takes one look at Hallwinter’s profile during the briefing — billionaire, built a robot suit, fighting terrorism on his own with no oversight — and mentally assigns it to a particular class of agent: young, female, attractive. The kind of person a billionaire would hire as a personal assistant. Carey, maybe.Instead, the Director slides a dossier across the table to Kravitz.(Kravitz and Barry meet two years before the events of All the Things You Prayed For.)





	Exit Interview

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [All the Things You Prayed For](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15501099) by [anonymousAlchemist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymousAlchemist/pseuds/anonymousAlchemist), [marywhale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marywhale/pseuds/marywhale). 



> Set in the same world as All the Things You Prayed for, the TAZ/Marvel AU that AnonymousAlchemist and I have been pouring our hearts into for the past five months.

**_New York, 2010_ **

The Hallwinter assignment is a surprise. Kravitz takes one look at Hallwinter’s profile during the briefing — billionaire, built a robot suit, fighting terrorism on his own with no oversight — and mentally assigns it to a particular class of agent: young, female, attractive. The kind of person a billionaire would hire as a personal assistant. Carey, maybe.

Instead, the Director slides a dossier across the table to Kravitz. “You play piano, right?” she asks, as if she doesn’t already know the answer. They’d started the Reaper Program candidate playing piano young, in the Red Room. It made their fingers dexterous and taught them discipline — gave those of them who’d work in infiltration one day a cover.

Kravitz is an _excellent_ pianist.

“Yes,” he says, flipping the file open. Christopher Keats is an English major who minored in music theory. He took a few years off after college to work for non-profit organizations before moving into the corporate realm, working strictly for companies with high ethical standards. He’s a vegetarian, obviously. An idealist. Naive, but with a certain flair for whimsy and critical thinking that shines through in the music background. He even volunteers at an animal shelter on the weekends.

Kravitz would eat Keats for breakfast.

Hallwinter’s profile doesn’t mention anything about his sexual preferences, but the idealistic Christopher Keats seems to Kravitz like the kind of kid a billionaire would pick out as an easy target. That’s fine. Kravitz is very good looking and he can play dumb.

He looks up at the Director. “This is who Hallwinter’s going to hire as a personal assistant?”

“His company’s making great strides in renewable energy,” she says, a faint quirk to her eyebrows. “They’re making those strides because Hallwinter is fighting tooth and nail against everyone else on his Board to push them through. He has the majority share, but they have the power to slow him down. There’s… talk the Board might negotiate a deal to reproduce parts of his suit as protective gear for military consumption in exchange for paving a smoother path for his corporate revamp.” The Director pauses, tapping a finger on the table. “There’s talk of corporate espionage and the possibility of an assassination attempt on Hallwinter from other interested parties.”

It’s good to know this assignment isn’t him being benched. There’s some meat to it. An actual purpose behind him being sent in to babysit a man the rest of the world is calling a superhero.

Kravitz closes the dossier and leans back in his chair. “When do I start?”

#

Another surprise: Barry isn’t at all what Kravitz expected. He’s friendly, if a bit shy, and much more humble than anyone with his money has a right to be. He’s going grey, wears dad jeans to the office, and has a bodyguard named Gundren who Kravitz doesn’t trust for a minute.

During his interview, Barry’s eyes light up when Kravitz mentions, offhand, that he’s a pianist — the music minor makes it easy — and they spend half an hour discussing Rachmaninoff’s Tchaikovsky arrangements before Barry offers him the position on the spot.

The Director is _very_ good at her job.

Barry often forgets to eat unless he’s reminded. He has a regime of algae-based protein shakes he consumes instead of food and his mind if usually in the lab, not on the job. He’ll wiggle out of meetings with the Board of Hallwinter Industries given half an excuse. It’s no wonder half of them are planning on going behind Barry’s back to continue selling weapons to the military instead of following his order to stop.

Barry, Kravitz quickly learns, is extraordinarily bad at talking to people.

“I just think you could make the whole thing longer-lasting and more efficient if you relied less on plastics,” Barry tells Leon, president of Artificer Robotics, in a meeting that’s supposed to be about Hallwinter Industries transferring Leon some of their outstanding military contracts. “And, I mean, the hydrocarbons you’re producing in your production lines are just going to add to the climate crisis — I’m moving into clean energy. It’s really fascinating stuff.”

Kravitz is in the corner taking notes. Leon’s personal assistant has a bottle of Tylenol already in hand.

Leon himself looks incredibly long-suffering. “Mr. Hallwinter,” he says. “I didn’t come here to talk about your work.”

“Oh, I know,” says Barry, cheerfully oblivious to the way Leon keeps glancing at his watch. “I don’t mind sharing.”

Leon leaves in a huff an hour later. Barry doesn’t seem to notice.

“I think that went okay,” Barry says, smiling at Kravitz. “Leon and my dad were friends. He was always around when I was a kid. I just want to help him out a bit, you know?”

Leon is a fully grown adult running a robotics corporation. Kravitz hands Barry a smoothie and keeps his face neutral. “Does he ask you to consult often?”

“Oh, it’s not, uh, formal like that,” Barry says, shaking his head as he take a sip of the drink. “Nothing codified or anything, you know? The Board would probably object. Hey, could you get Gundren to bring the car around? I think I’m gonna take my work home today. I want to do some stuff in the lab. I’ve got this idea for — well, I think maybe I could add some more effective non-lethal options to my suit? That would be good, right?”

“You’ve got a meeting with the CFO at two,” Kravitz says, and Barry’s face falls like he’s a kid Kravitz just denied candy.

“Shit,” Barry says. “Do I _have_ to meet with her today? I want to get this down before I forget. Stun weapons, right? I think a kind of — like a remote deploy thing? Stuff you can shoot at someone. That’d be real neat.”

The part of Kravitz that is a spy and the Reaper is _very_ interested in the concept. The part of him that’s playing Christopher Keats just smiles and pushes his glasses up his nose. “Can’t be helped,” he says, because the CFO has been in talks with Artificer Robotics about moving corporations and she’ll take corporate secrets with her, no matter what her contract says. “You could always work on your project remotely.”

Barry blinks at Kravitz like he, a tech genius, hadn’t thought about the very practical solution of remotely connecting to his home servers. Kravitz really doesn’t understand how Barry’s still alive when he’s told the _world_ he’s Iron Man, painted a target on the back of his head, and regularly forgets to do things like _eat._

“Fuck,” Barry says. “You’re right. Keats, where would I be without you?”

Kravitz spent the weekend diffusing a bomb attached to one of the sports cars Barry almost never uses. Three weeks before that, he’d had to swap out the contents of Barry’s fridge because someone dumped cyanide into his grocery delivery like it was the fucking Cold War again.

“Helpless,” Kravitz says, although it’s not what Keats would say.

He’s pleasantly surprised when Barry laughs in response.

#

Gundren flips on Barry. That’s not a surprise to Kravitz. Neither is the fact that Gundren was on the payroll for Artificer Robotics. What _is_ a surprise is Barry calling Gundren for a ride to work on a day he was supposed to spend at home. Kravitz finds out because the tracker he planted in Barry’s phone registers unusual activity and pings him.

Barry is moving, but he’s following the roads so it’s not because he’s doing something reckless in the Iron Man suit. When Kravitz pulls up the data on the tracker Kravitz planted on _Gundren_ , he’s also on the move.

They’re together, and they shouldn’t be.

It’s possible Barry just wanted to go on a last minute errand. It’s possible there’s nothing wrong. Kravitz’s instincts tell him that’s not the case and his instincts are _very, very good_.

He slips out from behind his desk at Hallwinter Industries, smiles his way past employees who try to stop him to chat about Barry’s schedule, and skips the elevators in favour of the stairs because he can get down them faster. Kravitz waits for the door to the stairwell to close behind him, then swings himself over the railing and drops down to the next level — lets the repetitive movement of hopping from landing to landing stretch out his muscles on the forty-five floor trip down to the parking garage, where Christopher Keats’s parks his sensible electric car every morning.

Kravitz twists his dreads into a bun as he walks past Keat’s car, heading towards the blue Lamborghini Barry’s left _languishing_ in the garage for the past two weeks. Kravitz doesn’t smash the window because he’s a professional and it’s a _very_ nice car. He doesn’t need to. The thing is full of easily hacked electronics — Kravitz unlocks and starts the car with his phone, then he’s out of the garage like a shot, his phone propped up on the dashboard, tracing Barry’s location.

The route Gundren and Barry are on looks suspiciously like they’re heading to Artificer Robotics R&D. It could still just be a friendly visit, but Kravitz has been training Barry to call in and tell him about scheduling changes. Barry’s gotten pretty good at doing it. Kravitz isn’t going to play it safe.

Kravitz gets rid of his fake glasses and pulls off his tie. When he hits the open road, he shrugs off his jacket and his button up too. His black undershirt will be easier to fight in. His dress shoes and trousers aren’t ideal, but they won’t slow him down much either. Kravitz has a gun, eight knives, and a lifetime of martial arts training. Gundren is the type of fighter who relies on his bulk and size to win fights for him. He already looks down on Kravitz for dressing well and having a slimmer build, has dismissed him as a non-threat except to his continued employment. Gundren is going to underestimate Kravitz in a fight. Even with the handicap of being improperly dressed, Kravitz is going to be just fine. He’s a professional. Gundren only _thinks_ he is.

The dot that indicates Gundren and Barry’s location stops a few miles away from Artificer Robotics, in a middle-of-nowhere industrial park. Kravitz puts his foot on the gas.

#

Barry wakes tied up in the trunk of a car which is… not ideal. His glasses are missing which is _also_ not great, but when he wiggles around he can feel that his phone is still in his back pocket. He fumbles it out with his bound hands, trying to remember the kidnapping training he got as a kid. Kicking out the taillights sounds familiar, but he’s also _Iron Man_ and whoever took him let him keep his _phone._ Not smart.

Barry unlocks it with his fingerprint and turns on voice commands. “JARVIS,” he says. “I need my suit.”

“Deploying,” says JARVIS, in his cheery English accent. “ETA five minutes.”

Barry needs to design something portable. Something that he can keep _on_ him for when stuff like this happens.

The last thing he remembers is calling Gundren for a ride to the McDonald’s drive-thru. He remembers thinking he’d text Keats a photo after he got his food to prove he was eating something non-smoothie based, as promised. Mostly because he knew Keats would give him shit for eating artery clogging fast food rather than one of the pre-portioned healthy meals Barry has in his fridge, but he’d been working all morning and wanted to treat himself.

Also Keats showing personality is nice. He’s a good kid — with all the non-profit work and his volunteer hours it’s obvious he’s got a big heart — but Keats has a secret asshole streak he only sometimes shows at work. Barry finds it delightful. Keats can smile at the self-important assholes Barry has to meet with everyday and tell them to go fuck themselves without actively _telling them_ to go fuck themselves. It’s great. Barry hopes he never leaves.

Barry also hopes he makes it out of this trunk alive. He tucks his phone away just as the trunk to the car pops open. He blinks at the sudden flood of light, looking up at a familiar face, and for a moment, he relaxes. “Gundren!” he says. “I thought you’d —” He stops because this probably isn’t Gundren mounting a rescue mission. “Oh.”

Gundren looks triumphant. “Yeah, _oh_ ,” he says. “Do you have _any_ idea how infuriating it is working for a smug punk like you? All that tech and you won’t share it with anyone else. You think you’re the only one _worthy_ of being a hero.”

“Gundren, I don’t really know what this is about, but maybe we could get lunch and talk it over or something? This doesn’t seem like — I mean I’m, uh, sure we could figure something out. Something that doesn’t involve a felony?” Barry pauses. “Do you… want a raise?”

Gundren punches him in the mouth. Hard.

Barry’s hauled up, into a seated position, so Gundren can hit him again. It hurts, but it’s fine. He just needs to make this last five minutes. Buy himself time for the suit to get here. He’ll have to get a new driver and bodyguard, but maybe Keats has a friend he can recommend. Someone who _won’t_ kidnap him.

Even without his glasses on, Barry can tell they’re in a warehouse of some kind. Abandoned. Dark. Not a great sign.

Barry spits out a mouthful of blood. “Think this through,” he says. “You’ve been working for my family for years, Gundren. I don’t —”

He’s hit again and Gundren sneers in his face. “At least your father had some balls, kid. Not like you. You’re —”

A blurred, dark shape materializes out of the shadows and presses a knife to Gundren’s neck. “Let Hallwinter go,” says a voice that isn’t quite Keats’s. “Take two steps back.”

Gundren _does_ let him go. Gundren doesn’t take the steps back though. He jerks an elbow back instead, but Keats-not-Keats seems to have anticipated that. He sidesteps the blow neatly and _does something_ with his legs that Barry can’t quite follow — knocks Gundren’s feet out from under him. Gundren goes down, _hard_ , with Keats on top of him. Keats slams Gundren’s head against the floor — methodically. _Casually._ His movements are precise and targeted like he’s done this a hundred times.

Gundren stops moving as soon as his head connects with the ground.

Keats stands up and brushes off the knees of his pants. He pulls a knife out from — somewhere on his person and leans in to cut the ties on Barry’s wrists and ankles. “Are you okay?”

Barry squints up at Keats because… yes, that’s definitely his friendly, non-violent personal assistant. Suddenly the _non-violent_ thing seems a little silly. Something about the way _this_ version of Keats carries himself screams _danger._

Maybe the fact that he seems unruffled by taking down a man nearly twice his size and is holding a very sharp looking knife.

“I’m fine,” Barry says. “You, uh, might want to step back. My suit’s going to —”

The suit bursts through the ceiling of the warehouse. Barry would be concerned about Keats getting hit by debris, but Keat is out of the danger zone before Barry can blink. The suit assembles around him and suddenly he can _see_ again to take a proper look at Keats.

Keats’s hair is pulled back in a tight bun and he’s shed his usual business attire. His expression is — Barry wouldn’t call the look on Keats’s face _carefully_ blank because that would imply some effort went into making it blank. It’s expression _less._ Maybe a little assessing.

“So I’m, uh, gonna guess you’re not _just_ a really good personal assistant, huh?” Barry asks. JARVIS is running Keats through a background check again. All that comes up is Christopher Keats, but Barry once had a super secret organization try and recruit him and he’s _very_ smart. “SHIELD?”

Keats’s mouth twitches upwards. Barry has a feeling the tell is deliberate. “They’ve been informed of the kidnapping attempt,” Keats says, and looks around the warehouse, cataloging it. “A convoy of three trucks from Artificer Robotics has been intercepted on its way here.”

A beat. “Cool,” Barry says, and climbs out of the trunk. “Are you… I guess your name isn’t really Christopher Keats, huh?” He’s going to have to hire a new personal assistant. That’s gonna suck.

Keats turns his attention back to Barry and Barry’s pretty sure the amusement in his eyes is real this time. He kind of looks like Keats again. Like Keats when he’s being an asshole to the people Barry works with. Barry’s favourite version of Keats. “Agent Kravtiz,” he says, holding out a hand. “Your protective detail for the foreseeable future.”

“Does this mean you’ll keep your cover?” Barry asks, taking Kravitz’s hand in his and shaking it. He retracts his faceplate, so Kravitz can see him smile. “Because I gotta say, you’re gonna be a hard act to follow.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this story, please leave a comment and kudos! <3
> 
> I'm over on tumblr [@marywhal](http://marywhal.tumblr.com) and I am always up to chat. Feel free to hop straight into my asks!


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